


A horrible decision, really

by karcathy



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Boys Are Dumb, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, but mostly angst i guess bc the boys are sad always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 04:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13516263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karcathy/pseuds/karcathy
Summary: A surprise confession from Noctis throws Ignis off-kilter. It's very hard to bury long-repressed feelings once you know they're reciprocated, but never let it be said that Ignis doesn't try.in which two boys in love take entirely too long to express their feelings to each other. It always takes a crisis, doesn't it?





	A horrible decision, really

Noctis had been quiet all day. Not unusual, perhaps, but he seemed subdued. Ignis had tried a few times to talk to him, and had been soundly rebuffed each time. He finally decided to leave well enough alone, and spent the rest of the afternoon quietly fretting whilst trying not to let Noct catch on (made easier by the fact that Noctis seemed even less observant of his surroundings than usual). Now, as the shadows grew longer and they began to set up camp for the night, Ignis kept his gaze on the young prince and let the conversation Prompto and Gladio were effortlessly carrying on wash over him unheard. 

“Noctis,” Ignis said, brushing off his hands as he stepped back to survey the now-complete tent, “I was wondering whether you’d be up for helping me with the cooking.”

“Sure. Why not,” said Noctis. Ignis wasn’t sure, but he thought his tone of boredom sounded more affected than usual. 

“Excellent.”

Ignis let the prince chop vegetables in silence, aside from the occasional instruction he couldn’t help but offer. 

“Done,” Noctis said, looking up from a board of roughly-chopped but broadly acceptable vegetables, “What now?”

“Add them to the pot, would you?” Ignis said, stepping back to allow him access. 

Noctis obeyed quietly. He paused before looking up and asking “Anything else?”

“That’s all, thank you,” Ignis said. He paused, allowing Noctis the chance to disappear quietly, and then, when he didn’t take it, continued in the most casual tone he could muster. “Something on your mind?”

“Something like that.” Noct was staring at his hands, his fingers twisting together like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. 

“Care to talk about it?” Ignis was trying very, very hard not to sound like a mother hen. He had some doubts about his level of success. 

“No,” Noctis said. It sounded more reflexive than anything, and Ignis waited patiently for him to continue. “Well, yes,” he said, sighing, “I don’t know.”

“I can’t force you to talk to me,” Ignis said, raising one hand as if to pat his shoulder and then thinking the better of it and letting it hang awkwardly in the air, “I just want you to know-” He paused. Exhaled. “I’m here for you, Noct.”

“I know.” Ignis thought he might be rolling his eyes, but he was still refusing to look up, so it was hard to tell. He thought that might be the end of the conversation as Noctis went quiet, but then he squared his shoulders and forced himself to look Ignis in the eye. 

“I want to talk to you,” he said, slowly, like it was hard to force the words out. “In private,” he added, glancing across at Prompto and Gladio, who probably couldn’t be paying less attention to them if they tried. 

“By all means,” Ignis said. He was trying not to let the growing concern blossoming inside him show on his face, but it was difficult. He just hoped Noct’s people skills were still too poor to read it. 

“It’s still light,” Noctis said, looking up, “Just about.” He paused, then strode off purposefully into the bushes. Ignis glanced over at the others - still oblivious. He took a moment to cover the pot, aware that his concern for their dinner should be overshadowed by his concern for his prince but still not quite able to quash it, then hurried off in the direction Noctis had gone. 

It took him too long - a precious minute of daylight - to find Noctis again, perching on a rock overhanging a pond and staring intently into the water. He looked so melancholy that Ignis could feel it, like an ache deep in his belly. The young king - still a prince to them more often than not - burdened by destiny. It was hardly surprising that he was troubled. 

“Noctis,” he said, softly, unwilling to disturb the quiet. Noct’s head snapped up to look at him with wide eyes, his expression unguarded but still unreadable in that moment. 

“Ignis.” His expression shuttered again, his eyes dropping back to the water. 

Ignis waited a moment, the silence falling heavy between them, before speaking. “You wished to speak with me?”

Noctis nodded stiffly, the muscles in his jaw and neck visibly tense. 

“Something is bothering you,” Ignis said. A statement, not a question, and now his pauses were mere courtesy as he prepared himself to provide the entire conversation. “I know there is no shortage of things weighing on you,” he continued. He found himself wishing that this conversation had fallen to Prompto or Gladio instead of himself. “Your situation is unique, I know I can’t hope to understand-”

He broke off, surprised, as Noctis made a noise, an unmistakable and most unexpected sound: laughter. 

“Ignis,” Noctis said, his lips still curled with amusement, “As much as I appreciate it, I didn’t drag you out here for one of your supportive speeches.”

“Oh,” said Ignis, stumbling for words, “What was it you wanted, then?”

“It’s silly, really,” he said, his cheeks colouring, “I just- I wanted to tell you. In case I don’t get the chance.”

“Tell me what?” Ignis prompted, when the silence stretched just a little too long. 

“I love you,” Noctis said, his voice strangled and his face crimson. 

“Oh,” said Ignis. And then, when that didn’t seem like enough, “Thank you.”

Noctis looked up at him, his eyes narrowing. Ignis could feel the blood rushing to his face as the prince stared at him, his piercing gaze cutting right through him. A beat of silence, and then Noctis was rolling his eyes, his expression softening. 

“For the smartest guy I know,” he said, twisting so his body was angled towards Ignis, “You can be incredibly dense sometimes.” Ignis got it then, heat coiling in his gut like a sharp punch to the stomach. “Specs. I _love_ you.”

Ignis kept his face carefully blank. “That seems unwise, your Highness,” he said, his words chosen as carefully as a barefoot man picking his way across a hallway with a recently broken window.

Noctis laughed again. “Don’t be an ass, Specs,” he said. He jumped down from his perch in one fluid movement, and suddenly there was far too little space between them. Ignis was finding it difficult to think clearly, taking a nervous half-step back as he re-adjusted his glasses. “I just wanted to know,” Noctis said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other - and there he was, the anxious boy who was still so young, still not ready for everything the world asked of him - “You know, whether there was a chance.”

It took Ignis a moment to find his voice again. “In case you have forgotten-”

“I don’t care,” Noctis interrupted, suddenly fierce, “Cut the crap, Ignis. Forget everything else. I just want to know - I won’t ask anything else - but if it was just me, and just you, and none of the rest of-” he gestured vaguely “-all this. What would you say?”

Ignis swallowed. It was impossible to think clearly. He stared helplessly at Noctis, unable to say anything, unable to say _no_ , to say _I can’t love you_ , to lie - was it a lie? He had never truly realised it was a lie. Part of him marvelled at how perfectly, studiously repressed he had been. 

“What would you say?” Noctis said, taking a step closer, so they were almost touching, his head tilted to look Ignis in the eye. His blue eyes were wide and clear, their expression heartfelt and honest, and tinged with just a little fear. Ignis felt a pang at that: how much courage had this confession taken? Maybe more than facing the Empire. 

“Noct…” he said, scarcely more than a whisper. He couldn’t force himself to speak, to tell the truth or to lie. 

Noct’s gaze was still on him, searching and just a little unsure, as he lifted his hand to Ignis’s face. It was with a deep and weary sigh that Ignis made his move, his eyes reflexively closing as he pressed his lips chastely against the prince’s, hoping that would work as well as the words he couldn’t summon. Noctis leaned into it, dry lips brushing against dry skin as Ignis pulled away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, before turning and walking quickly back towards the campsite, resolutely not looking back at his prince. 

***

Ignis refused to to look at Noctis when he returned, a good five minutes later than Ignis himself, choosing instead to focus on serving up their (thankfully still edible) dinner. From what he could glean from his peripheral vision, Noctis looked more angry than hurt, which Ignis took to be a good sign. Hopefully, he would get over it quickly, and things would return to - well, if not normal, something close enough under the circumstances. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Ignis said, taking his own bowl and retreating to a rock near the edge of the campsite, far enough from the fire that he was thrown into shadow. Covertly, he watched as the others took their food, Gladio giving him a tacit nod of acknowledgement and Prompto calling out his thanks loud enough to hear in the next town. Noctis just gave Ignis a sullen glare before sitting next to the fire with his back to him. 

“Did you guys have a fight or something?” Prompto asked, glancing over at Ignis and then back down at his food, his face reddening, when he noticed Ignis was looking at - and listening to - him. 

Noctis’s response was inaudible from where Ignis was sitting, but it made Gladio laugh. Ignis frowned to himself, returning his gaze to his food and pulling out his notebook to make a few notes on possible improvements he could make to the dish in future. Giving Noctis some space was a good idea, but he hoped it didn’t come at the expense of his friendship with the other two. Situations like this were exactly why avoiding romantic entanglements in such a tight-knit group was paramount; if only Noctis could be that pragmatic about it. 

Ignis ignored the soft conversation carrying on around the fire, mostly provided by Prompto, until Noctis stood up and disappeared into the tent. It couldn’t be past 7, but Ignis had no doubts as to his ability to fall asleep. 

“Hey, Iggy,” Gladio said as the opening fell shut behind the prince. 

“Yes?” said Ignis, looking up and blinking at the sudden brightness of the fire. 

“What’s up with Noct?”

Ignis sighed, returning his notebook to his pocket as he stood up and walked over to the fire, his empty bowl in one hand. “Nothing of consequence,” he said, picking up the bowl Noctis had left there and stacking both bowls neatly on the folding table, ready to be washed. Behind his back, he was sure Gladio and Prompto were exchanging glances. 

“He seems pretty pissed,” Prompto said, his voice pitched lower than usual as he glanced nervously at the tent, “With you, mostly.”

“I know,” Ignis said, sighing again as he turned around, pushing his glasses up to massage the bridge of his nose, “What did he say?”

“Not much,” Gladio said, “The usual.”

Ignis relaxed slightly, relieved damage control here would be minimal. 

“You can be a little hard on him,” Prompto said, biting his lip nervously as he looked up at Ignis. 

“I know,” Ignis said, coming over to sit with them, “It’s for his own good, of course-”

“He’ll get over it,” Gladio said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t worry about it.”

Ignis hoped to the Gods that he was right. 

***

Naturally, Noctis was still asleep when Ignis awoke. He sat up, rubbing his eyes before putting his glasses back on, and looked across the sleeping forms of Gladiolus and Prompto to where Noctis was curled into a ball, facing away from his friends. He seemed almost unnaturally still; Ignis had to watch him for a few minutes before he could discern the slight movements of his breathing. He watched him for a moment longer, wondering idly what he might be dreaming about, before shaking himself out of his reverie and turning away. 

He dressed quickly and stepped outside, blinking rapidly in the cool dawn light. He checked his watch: just past 6 - perhaps a little early to begin breakfast, but he could at least get the fire going again and put some coffee on. Left to his own devices, Noctis would probably happily sleep until it was getting dark again, but Gladio would never stand for that. That in mind, Ignis was happy to kill the time until the others emerged doing small tasks that no one would ever thank him for, but no doubt would have complained about going uncompleted. 

It was past 7 by the time Prompto stuck his head out of the tent, no doubt lured out by the smell of breakfast - Ignis had begun to get hungry. 

“Morning, Iggy,” he said, rubbing his eye with one hand, “Smells delicious.”

“It’ll be ready soon,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee, “Why don’t you wake the others?”

“Sure,” said Prompto, rapidly disappearing back inside. There were some muffled grumbling noises, then Prompto re-emerged, followed by Gladio (still shirtless, despite the chill morning air) half-carrying Noctis, who still seemed more asleep than awake. All three were barefoot and wearing pyjamas, a sharp contrast to the fully-dressed Ignis. He chose not to comment on it, instead handing out plates. 

They ate in silence, Noctis’s eyes drifting shut between every bite. He seemed to sleepwalk through the morning, getting dressed only at Gladio’s insistence and helping minimally with breaking camp. It was nearly 9 by the time they were all piled into the Regalia, Ignis in the driver’s seat with Noctis nodding off behind him. 

“Where to?” he asked, glancing up at his reflection in the rearview mirror. 

“Wherever,” Noctis said, his eyes not opening. 

Ignis sighed, starting up the car. He briefly consulted his mental list of tasks they had yet to complete, then set off towards the nearest one. They drove in companionable silence, the atmosphere in the car still distinctly sleepy, until Ignis pulled over. 

“We’re here,” he said, looking over his shoulder to see Noctis sleepily opening his eyes, stretching his arms above his head as he sat forward. 

“Where’s here?” Did he sound grumpier than usual? Perhaps he was still not awake enough to remember he was annoyed with Ignis, or why that was the case. 

Ignis took a few moments to explain what they were doing - a minor task, but one that would earn them some much-needed gil, and tried not to stare at Noctis too intently. He was worried, of course; that was only natural. They set off, Noctis taking the lead, and Ignis following closely behind. He worried that he was paying too much attention to the prince, and then worried that it might seem weird if he paid less, and in general was too preoccupied with trying to act normally to actually remember how to. 

The whole morning went like that: Ignis was driven to distraction trying to act normally, whilst Noctis was his usual, slightly sullen self. Finally, they stopped for lunch at the Crow’s Nest, after some pointed complaints from Prompto. They sat down at the counter, giving the menus a perfunctory once-over despite the fact that they had all long since memorised the short list of dishes available. At the far end from Ignis, Prompto was sprawled across the counter, taking full advantage of their rest stop. Noctis kicked him in the ankle when the server came over to take their order, and Ignis found himself wishing he could see the fond half-smile he knew was gracing Noctis’s face. Noct ordered the same thing for all of them, then leaned against the counter, his body angled towards Prompto as he struck up a quiet conversation. Gladio ignored them, pulling out a book instead, and Ignis focused on trying to quash the irrational jealousy he was feeling. Noctis and Prompto had been close friends for years; getting jealous of that _now_ was irrational and petty. He stared at his plate instead, focusing on _not_ listening to them. 

“Specs. Specs.” Noctis’s hand on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts. “Are you done?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes,” Ignis said, standing up and letting Noctis’s hand slip away, “Sorry.”

He didn’t offer an explanation for his distraction, and Noctis frowned, looking concerned, but he let it drop. 

“Let’s go, then.”

Noctis headed outside, and set off confidently in a seemingly random direction. The others followed, starting out in silence, although it wasn’t long until Prompto started humming. Noctis ran purposefully through the trees, the sounds of his breath and feet sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet air. Gladio dropped back to exchange concerned looks with Ignis. The two had worked together long enough that they could communicate plenty without words, especially where it concerned the prince. A look from Gladio asked whether they should ask what the plan was; Ignis responded with a slightly shake of his head. He trusted Noctis, and they would find out where they were going soon enough. 

It was nearly 5 minutes of gentle running before Noctis slowed to a walk, and, as he caught up, Ignis soon saw his reason for stopping. There was a small lake - really no more than a pond - in front of them, with a little jetty overhanging the water, perfect for fishing. Perhaps not as bountiful as a larger body of water, but it was worth a try. 

“I’m going to fish for a bit,” Noctis said, summoning his rod with a flick of his wrist. 

“A capital idea,” Ignis said, settling on the bank a couple of metres back from the water, “I have just the recipe for fish. I’ve been meaning to try it out.”

“A new recipe?” Prompto asked, sounding excited. 

“Can’t wait to try it,” Gladio said, leaning against a tree. His posture looked deceptively relaxed for someone constantly aware of any danger that might befall the prince. 

“Mm,” Noctis said, his attention already entirely focused on the body of water in front of him. 

Ignis leaned back slightly, angling his view so he could see Noctis’s face. At first glance, it was blank and expressionless, but to Ignis, who had known him for so long, his quiet focus and, beneath that, his peaceful contentment, were clear. It was peaceful watching him, his skill understated, the sport as far from ostentatious as possible. It was so well suited to the prince’s temperament. Ignis found himself musing along those lines - if the prince were a predator, he thought, he would be some kind of cat: quiet, watchful, seemingly indolent but poised to strike with deadly grace. 

“Hey, Ignis.”

It took him a moment to look up at the sound of his name. Gladio caught his eye and beckoned for him to come over. It took great presence of mind not to roll his eyes.

“Yes?” he said, remaining where he was. 

Gladio sighed, then crouched next to him. “So, what’s the deal?” he said, lowering his voice, his eyes darting over to Noctis and then back to Ignis. 

“What deal?” he said, feigning ignorance. Was he being that obvious?

“You’re brooding,” Gladio said, making Ignis frown, “What’s got you worried? Noct get himself in trouble?”

“No, Gladio,” he said with a sigh, “It really is nothing. Noctis is… nervous, that’s all.”

“Nervous, huh?”

“Anxious, perhaps. Look, I’d really rather you didn’t say anything-”

“No, I get it,” Gladio interrupted, “I’m sorry. I’ll let you handle it, just…”

“Just?” Ignis said, raising one eyebrow. 

“Be sensitive,” Gladio said, returning to his post against the tree, leaving Ignis to frown at his feet. Hardly necessary advice, but - well, it might be worth a thought. 

Ignis had stopped really watching - his eyes were still on Noctis, but his mind was miles away - when there was a tug on the line. He sat up slightly, snapping into focus, as Noctis began reeling in the fish. 

“Careful, Noct,” he said, “The line isn’t going to last much longer.”

Noctis gritted his teeth, leaning his weight against the fish. “Got it,” he said. He sounded tense, perhaps a little irritable. He’d often expressed annoyance at the ‘backseat fishing’ advice offered by the others, but that never discouraged them. 

“Lean the rod towards the fish.”

Noctis shot him an angry glare, momentarily distracted from the rod, and the line began to creak worryingly. Returning his attention to the fish, he kept his focus - and Ignis held his tongue - until he had pulled the fish from the water. It was hardly a record-breaking catch, but it was sufficiently impressive. 

“Well done, Noct,” Ignis said. 

“You did good,” Gladio added, his voice uncommonly fond. 

Noct just nodded tersely, putting the fish aside and turning back to respool his line. He cast it again with a casual flick of his wrist, settling back patiently as he waited for a bite. Ignis relaxed again, his eyes still on the prince as he returned his focus to the list of things he had to do.

Watching Noctis fish really was boring. There was only so much time Ignis could spend mentally tallying things before even he ran out of things that needed thinking about. His mind began to wander before long, and, naturally, it wandered to Noctis. He began, unwillingly, to think of the previous night, and its uncomfortable revelation. The idea that Noctis viewed him in a romantic light was… odd, to say the least. The prince had always been good at hiding his emotions, or at not allowing himself to feel them, but Ignis prided himself on being able to read him. Had he been obtuse, or was this a recent development? Was Noct, in the midst of all that had befallen him, merely deflecting his feelings onto the nearest available target? It seemed cruel to think it, but that didn’t necessarily make it untrue. And, in his own case, was the sudden… _affection_ that he felt for Noctis merely brought on by his confession, a misguided desire to reciprocate? He had known and served Noctis for years; their friendship had always come second to duty, and he had never allowed himself to think of the prince romantically - that was simply never an option. The occasional fleeting thought of attraction was always quickly quashed, discarded as entirely inappropriate and never to be considered. He had a duty to Noctis, and in that role, he cared deeply for him - but surely, never beyond the bounds of duty. He couldn’t be _in love_ with Noctis. He _couldn’t_. 

The sun had begun to set before they realised how late it was getting, the shadows of the trees growing long over the water. 

“We should be going,” Ignis said, moving to stand beside Noctis, “The daemons will be out before long.”

“Right,” said Noctis, dismissing his fishing rod and pulling out the map.

“There’s a haven not too far from here,” Ignis said, peering over his shoulder.

“Ugh. Camping,” Noctis said, pulling a face, “Again.”

“Wuss,” Gladio said, a challenging grin on his face. 

“It’s up to you, your Highness,” Ignis said, stepping back and inclining his head towards Noctis. 

He looked at the map for a moment longer, then sighed. “Camping it is,” he said, setting off towards the haven. There was a path marked on the map, curving slightly away from the direct route, but Noctis chose instead to forge his way straight through the bushes, heading directly towards the tell-tale glow of blue light. He leapt easily up the rocks to the flattened, rune-carved area on top, and then immediately collapsed onto his back, bringing his arms up to cushion his head. 

“I could fall asleep right here,” he said, his eyes drifting shut. 

“You can remain awake long enough to eat,” Ignis said, nudging his side with his foot as he walked past. 

“Hmm,” hummed Noctis, “Wake me up when dinner’s ready.”

Ignis refrained from rolling his eyes, but it was difficult. Instead, he focused on setting up his cooking station, running through their remaining ingredients in his mind as he tried to decide what to cook. Something involving the fish Noctis had caught that day would be ideal, while it was still fresh. They were a little low on spices, but something simple should suffice. 

True to his word, Noctis had actually fallen asleep by the time dinner was ready. Prompto and Gladio were still struggling with the tent, so Ignis covered the food to keep it warm and went over to wake him up. He had rolled onto his front, one arm drawn up over his face - perhaps to block out the light - and one leg drawn up beside him. 

“Noctis,” Ignis said, crouching down to put a hand on his shoulder, “Wake up.”

“Hmm?” said Noctis, his arm coming down as he blinked blearily at Ignis, “Is it morning?”

“No, you didn’t sleep quite that long,” Ignis said, allowing an amused smile to curve his lips, “Dinner is ready.”

“Oh. Right,” Noctis said, pushing himself up into a sitting position and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “Just give me a mo.”

Ignis returned to the table, noting that Gladio and Prompto had finished with the tent and were now eagerly waiting by the fire, and took them their plates. Noctis ambled over, still looking more asleep than awake, and took his plate with a mumbled thanks before collapsing back onto the floor. Ignis watched him for a moment, attempting to discern how likely he was to fall asleep on his food, before taking his own plate over to a chair by the others. 

“It’s only 6 in the evening,” Gladio said, looking over at Noctis, whose eyes had drifted shut while his hand mechanically moved food from his plate to his mouth, “I don’t know how he sleeps so damn much.”

“Noctis has never been blessed with particularly restful sleep,” Ignis noted, “It’s no wonder he’s tired, really.”

“Hmmph.” Gladio made a noise that wasn’t quite agreement, but which didn’t openly disagree with him. He had never been inclined to go easy on the prince, a stance which was usually beneficial and only sometimes slipped into pigheadedness. 

Ignis decided not to press the point, choosing to change the subject instead. “We ought to take on a hunt tomorrow,” he said, turning his gaze back to Noctis, who gave every impression of not listening in the slightest, “Money is running low, and it would be nice to spend a night indoors.”

“Camping’s good for you,” Gladio said, although he didn’t sound particularly argumentative. 

“It’s not good for _me_ ,” Prompto said, “My back is _killing_ me.”

“We could all use a real bed, I think,” said Ignis, still watching Noct. 

Prompto and Gladio carried on the conversation, arguing the merits of a bed against sleeping in a tent, while Ignis continued to watch Noctis. The prince had finished eating. He was still sitting upright, cross-legged, but his head was resting on his hand, the elbow digging into his thigh, and his eyes flickered between open and shut as he readjusted, searching for a comfortable position. Ignis pressed his lips together; the prince was unnaturally tired, even by his standards. Perhaps he should talk to him - although perhaps he wasn’t the right person, given that he more than likely had a starring role in the reason for his current mood. He gathered the dirty dishes, stacking them neatly for washing later, then went over to sit beside Noctis. 

“You’re tired,” he said, causing Noctis to blink a little.

“What’s new?” Noctis said dryly, straightening his back and lifting his head. 

For once, Ignis decided to forgo the lecture. “You need to rest,” he said, nodding in the direction of the tent, “Go.”

Noctis sighed, then nodded, pushing himself upright and walking slightly unsteadily over to the tent. Ignis watched him duck inside, and hoped that the others had put their sleeping bags out already, otherwise Noctis was liable to sleep on the floor. He was already unlikely to change beyond removing his boots - if he even managed that. It was impossible for Ignis not to worry about his prince. There was always _something_. 

The other three passed the evening in companionable silence, Gladio reading a book and Prompto playing on his phone while Ignis tidied up. He spent a little longer on the task than necessary, keeping his hands occupied in an attempt to prevent his mind from wandering, but eventually he ran out of tidying to do. Reluctant to relax, instead he decided to search through their luggage for clothes in need of repair. Noctis had managed to wear holes in nearly all of his socks, so Ignis took a small pile of them with his sewing kit to sit by the fire, where the light was a little better. It still wasn’t exactly bright enough to be darning socks, never mind black socks, but it would have to do. 

“Why do you bother with that?” Gladio said, raising his eyebrows as he looked over at Ignis, “He can buy new socks.”

“I prefer not to be wasteful,” Ignis said, primly adjusting the darning egg as he began to sew.

“Is it hard?” Prompto said, looking up from his phone to watch as Ignis’s needle darted through the black fabric. 

“Not especially,” Ignis said, pausing to push his glasses back up his nose, “Just repetitive, and somewhat time-consuming - enough that most don’t bother with it these days.”

“So, it’s boring, then,” Prompto said. That made Ignis smile, although he tried to hide it. 

“Perhaps,” he allowed, rotating the fabric. He paused before continuing. “I find it relaxing.”

“Huh,” said Gladio, frowning, “Well, good thing you enjoy it. Prince charmless over there is hardly gonna be grateful.”

“He’s certainly never taken notice of it before,” Ignis said with a small smile, “I doubt he’ll be changing that any time soon.”

The others laughed, without real humour, and let him continue in silence. Around them, true night had fallen and stars were beginning to show between the clouds. It was quiet, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the soft rustling when Gladio turned a page and the soft hum of magic in the air. It was peaceful, except for the thoughts in his head Ignis could never quite tune out. 

Prompto was the first of them to join Noctis in the tent, his “Goodnight” obscured by a yawn as he stood up. Gladio followed soon after, leaving Ignis alone. The fire was burning low, the light given out now really insufficient for sewing by, so Ignis tied off the thread and packed away the socks and his supplies. He was reluctant to join the others, but well aware that he needed a full night’s rest to be of use the next day. It was with a sigh that he pushed aside the tent flap, ducking into the cramped space inside. Noctis had taken the bag on the far left, his messy black hair and a sliver of pale skin just visible above the cover, his face turned into the wall of the tent. Prompto had claimed the far right, rather unfairly leaving the taller two squashed together in the middle. And, of course, given the prince’s tendency towards nightmares, which could involve injury to innocent bystanders, Gladio had opted to lie next to Prompto. Which left Ignis next to Noctis. Of course. 

He allowed himself one quiet sigh before shrugging off his jacket, turning away to exchange his shirt and trousers for pyjamas as efficiently as he could in the cramped space, and placing his glasses carefully in their case. Getting into his sleeping bag was another exercise in athleticism, but he managed not to wake the others. Then it was just a matter of actually falling asleep, which was, theoretically speaking, simple. He could hear Prompto mumbling - he had a tendency of talking in his sleep - and, beside him, Gladio was snoring softly. He stared blankly at the ceiling of the tent, willing himself to drift off. Counting sheep, perhaps - it might be boring enough. Sighing, he rolled onto his side, his eyes locking onto the back of Noctis’s head. He was almost unnaturally still and quiet, and it was some time before Ignis became attuned to the soft sound of his breathing. His dark hair was even messier than usual, disturbed by his sleep, and Ignis found himself wishing he could see his face. Not a wise route for his thoughts to follow, but perhaps an inevitable one. Noctis, of course, remained stubborn, even in his sleep. His hair, messy as it was, looked soft, and Ignis clenched his hand into a fist, the nails digging into his palm, to stop himself from reaching out. Noctis made a soft noise, and Ignis froze, closing his eyes and attempting to slow his breathing to a convincing simulacrum of sleep. The tent went quiet, and he cracked his eyes open to see that Noctis was still sleeping soundly. Nothing had changed. He let out the breath he’d been holding, then rolled to face away from Noctis, determined to fall asleep. 

He must have managed it at some point, because light was beginning to seep through the walls of the tent when he was woken by something digging into his side. Blinking himself awake, he fumbled for his phone and checked the time - a little after 4 in the morning, still too early to be getting up. He dropped his head with a groan, then cursed as a swinging hand caught him on the temple. Next to him, Noctis was writhing as if possessed, his face now turned towards Ignis and screwed up in distress. 

“Noctis,” Ignis whispered, trying not to wake the others, “Noct.” He reached across with one arm, awkwardly placing his hand on Noctis’s shoulder. 

Noctis made an incoherent noise, moving towards the contact, his face colliding with Ignis’s chest. 

“Noctis,” Ignis repeated, his hand sliding around to rest between Noctis’s shoulder blades, making small movements he hoped were comforting. 

Noctis just whimpered softly, his fingers clawing at Ignis’s shirt. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Ignis said, trying not to worry _too_ much about the prince ripping his pyjamas, “You’re safe, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

He continued to mumble nonsensical platitudes, hoping they did something to calm the prince. It had been a long time since Ignis had last been around for one of Noctis’s nightmares, and he felt a brief stab of guilt in his gut at the thought of the prince waking up like this alone. It wasn’t his place - it probably shouldn’t be - although the lines had been blurred long ago. And this, Noctis, warm in his arms, his face pressed against his chest, his drool soaking through his shirt - this was nice, even the drool. It was nice, even though it was a terrible idea - and the world was falling into ruin anyway, so something nice, even if it was also terrible, might make a nice change. He groaned, softly; why was it so hard to stop these thoughts? He could make an itemised list of all the pros and cons of loving Noctis, and at the end of it have only _because it’s nice_ under the pros column, and in the end he would still want to throw that all away. It was sickeningly illogical. 

He fell asleep again, he must have, because next time he awoke his arms were empty and there was only a slight damp patch on his chest to suggest Noctis had ever been there. Noctis was gone, which in itself was unusual enough to be alarming, and he could still hear the sounds and feel the warmth of other bodies sleeping next to him. Sitting up, he confirmed that Gladio and Prompto were indeed still asleep, and that Noctis was no longer in the tent. His phone told him it was nearly 7 - far too early for Noctis to get up of his own accord - and the pit of worry in his chest deepened. Moving carefully past the others, he slipped outside. He straightened up, casting a glance over the campsite, and breathed a soft sigh of relief when he saw Noctis sitting on a rock, kicking his left heel against the stone, his right knee drawn up so his chin could rest on it. He was fully dressed - although it looked like he hadn’t changed his clothes from yesterday - and staring off into the distance, his brow furrowed. 

“A little early for you, isn’t it?” Ignis said, striking a light, teasing tone. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, still not looking at Ignis, “Nightmares. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Not at all,” Ignis assured him, hesitating before he continued. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“No point,” Noctis said, shaking his head slightly, “I’m fine.” His stomach rumbled, loudly enough for Ignis to hear. “Hungry, though,” he added, with a small smile, finally looking up at Ignis. 

“I’ll get started on breakfast right away,” he said, turning back to the tent, “Just give me a moment to get dressed.”

“Be quick,” Noctis said, “I’m starving over here.”

Ignis dressed swiftly, returning outside to appraise their remaining supplies. 

“These eggs need using,” he said, more to himself than to Noctis. 

“Sounds great,” Noctis said, and Ignis started a little at the sound of his voice, closer behind him than he was expecting. 

“Are you offering to help?” Ignis asked, one eyebrow raised incredulously. 

“Depends. Will it make breakfast quicker?”

“Hmm,” Ignis hummed, cracking the eggs into a bowl, “Somehow, I doubt it.”

“All right, I’ll just watch, then,” said Noctis, taking a step back, but still standing a little too close. 

Ignis just _hmm_ ed again, choosing not to respond. Instead, he focused on cooking their breakfast, simple as it was, as if it required his full attention. Eventually, Noctis got bored and left, sitting in one of the folding chairs and pulling out his phone. 

The smell of cooking soon drew the others out of the tent, half-dressed and rubbing sleep from their eyes. 

“Impeccable timing,” Ignis said, pulling out plates to serve their breakfast on. 

Prompto laughed, but Gladio just grunted. 

“Your highness, breakfast is served,” he said, offering the plate to Noctis with a sarcastic flourish. 

“You’ve really outdone yourself,” Noctis said, smirking as he accepted the plate. 

Ignis laughed, turning away to get his own plate. “Hardly,” he said, “But this is perfectly adequate, I think.”

“More than adequate,” Gladio said, the compliment spoiled a little by his full mouth, “This is great.”

“Mmm!” Prompto said, choosing to give him an excited thumbs up instead of talking through a mouthful of food. 

Ignis just smiled fondly, taking a bite of his eggs. Not bad, but could do with a little more salt. He made a mental note to change his recipe.

“We should take on a hunt today,” Ignis said, “A motel room would be most welcome tonight.” And, more importantly, he would have the opportunity to sleep in a different room to Noctis. 

***

They ended up completing three hunts that day, all of them easy enough for them to finish without breaking a sweat. It was only 5pm when Noctis told him to park outside a motel, and they were all dirty enough that checking in early was probably a good idea. 

“I’ll get us some rooms, then,” Ignis said, shutting off the engine and releasing his seatbelt. He glanced up at Noctis’s reflection in the rearview mirror; his eyes were shut and his head was resting against the back of his seat. “Wait here,” he said, looking across at Prompto to check that at least one person in the car was actually listening to him. To his credit, Prompto looked up from his phone and nodded, although he didn’t seem to have been really listening. 

Tucking the keys into his pocket, Ignis crossed the parking lot to the motel lobby. 

“Rooms for four, please,” he said, leaning his elbow on the counter, “Whatever your cheapest option is.”

“We’ve only got doubles left,” the man said, looking supremely bored, “That do you?”

“That’s fine, thank you. Two doubles, please.”

The exchange of money for keys went quickly and Ignis was soon back at the car. 

“We’ve got two doubles,” he said, sliding back into the driver’s seat and twisting around to address the back of the car. 

“Aw, man,” Prompto said, “No singles?”

“There were none left,” Ignis said, watching as Noctis slowly opened his eyes, “So, Noctis, it’s your call. Who do you want to share with?” _Not me_ , he thought, _Gods willing_. He had spent enough of his day uncomfortably hyper-aware of the prince’s every movement; sharing a bed with him would be too much. 

“Don’t mind,” Noctis said, shrugging one shoulder, “Someone else can pick.”

“I’ll go with Prompto then,” Gladio said, before Ignis could get a word in, “He takes up the least room.”

Prompto laughed, but held his hand out to Ignis for a key, which he (only somewhat reluctantly) handed over. 

“I’m going to shower,” he said, climbing out of the car. 

“Oh, no,” Gladio said, quickly following, “I’m going first.”

“I call shotgun!”

Their bickering faded as they walked away from the car, leaving Ignis alone with Noctis. 

“We should get something to eat,” Ignis said, breaking the silence as it began to get uncomfortable. 

“Yeah,” Noctis said, leaning between the front seats, “Can I have the key? I want to nap first.”

“Of course,” Ignis said, handing it over, “I’ll bring something up to the room.”

“Thanks.” Noctis slipped out of the car, leaving Ignis alone. Slowly, he let his head hit the steering wheel. _Perfect_.

Ignis killed some time wandering around the rest area, browsing the small store and talking to the man behind the counter at the Crow’s Nest diner. Eventually, however, he had to go up to their room - if only to make sure Noctis ate something. Take-out from the diner in one hand, he knocked on the door with the other. There was no response, so he knocked again for good measure. Inside, he heard some quiet shuffling, and then the door swung open to reveal Noctis, his feet bare and his hair in disarray. 

“Hey, Specs,” he said, suppressing a yawn, “Dinner time?”

“Here,” Ignis said, offering him the bag. 

“Oh, you’re a star,” Noctis said, eagerly accepting and shuffling back over to the bed, opening the bag to peer inside. 

“You’re welcome,” Ignis said with a small smile, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. The room was very small - the bed took up most of the space inside, the rest taken up by the small bedside tables and the stand holding the television at the foot of the bed. The door to the bathroom was ajar, revealing a toilet, a shower and a sink which had through some feat of engineering been crammed into a space which looked far too small to hold them. 

“Cosy, isn’t it?” Noctis said, through a mouthful of food. 

“Not exactly the word I would choose,” Ignis said, crossing to sit next to him on the bed. 

“Beats camping any day, though,” he said, his hand snaking into the bag and returning full of fries. 

“I won’t tell Gladio you said so,” Ignis said, with a small smile. 

Noctis laughed. “Want one?” he said, offering Ignis the bag. 

“No, thank you,” he said, with a shake of his head, “I already ate.”

“Okay,” said Noctis, his hand dropping back to his lap, “I didn’t shower yet, but do you want to go first?” A slight pause, and then when Ignis said nothing: “I mean, we could _try_ to go together, but I don’t think we’d fit.”

Ignis had to laugh at that. “No, you’re right,” he said, “I’ll be quick.”

“Leave me some hot water, yeah?”

“Certainly.”

Ignis took a moment to extract his pyjamas from his luggage, leaving his glasses on the nightstand, then went into the tiny bathroom. Although small - he had to contort himself to get his hair under the water - the shower was adequate, and he managed to clean and dress in 10 minutes. He left the bathroom with his damp hair falling loosely around his face, which would no doubt amuse Noctis but was more practical than applying hair gel before bed. 

“The shower is yours,” he said, turning aside to pack his dirty clothes away. There was no response from Noctis, and he glanced up to check whether he had fallen asleep again. He hadn’t - he was just staring silently at Ignis, with a peculiar expression on his face. 

“Your hair-”

“I know,” interrupted Ignis, “Go. Shower.”

Noctis stood up slowly.

“It suits you,” he said, as he closed the bathroom door behind him, and Ignis was rather glad of the barrier as he felt his cheeks heating up. To blush at such a minor compliment - well, it spoke rather strongly of the influence the prince had on his emotions. 

Noctis took longer in the shower than Ignis had - enough time that he began to worry he had fallen asleep standing up - but eventually he emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist, water beading on his torso, and his hair dripping steadily onto his shoulders. 

“Dry your hair,” Ignis said, ignoring the way his pulse thudded at the sight of him, half-naked and dripping, “You’ll soak the pillows.”

Noctis just nodded, leaning over his bag to search for something to wear. Despite himself, Ignis let his eyes linger. Noctis was as strong as any of them, his skill in battle nothing to scoff at, but unlike Gladio, that strength wasn’t immediately obvious on looking at him. Muscle lay hidden under soft flesh and fine pale skin, unmarred aside from the scar across his upper back. He was fit through necessity rather than choice, and it showed in the softness that still existed in him despite everything life had thrown at him. He was beautiful in a sweet, pretty way, and Ignis was reminded, achingly, of how very young he was - only two years his junior, but still far too young to be carrying this weight on his shoulders. It was unfair - a sentiment Ignis rarely saw the sense in expressing - but it was. He had never deserved all this. His heart ached, suddenly, with the desire to protect him, futile as it was. 

“Hey, have you seen my t-shirt?” Noctis said, interrupting his thoughts, “The one with the chocobo. I was sure I had it.”

“It’s dirty,” Ignis said, dropping his gaze just as Noctis looked up at him, “I’ll do our laundry at the soonest opportunity.”

“Oh,” said Noctis, turning towards him, “Do you have a shirt I can borrow, then? I don’t have any left.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Ignis said, leaning over to open his bag. A moment of rummaging, and then he pulled out a soft grey t-shirt. “Will this do?” he asked, offering it to Noctis

“That’s great, thank you,” Noctis said, leaning over to take it and then pulling it over his wet hair, leaving damp streaks on the cotton. 

“And Noctis?” Ignis said, fixing an exasperated expression on his face, “Do dry your hair, won’t you?”

“Oh, right,” Noctis said, lifting a hand to where his hair was still dripping onto his shoulders, “Sorry.” 

Ignis turned away, pretending to be focused on finding something in his bag, as Noctis exchanged the towel for pyjama pants and then bent over to rub it through his hair. After what he estimated to be a safe interval, Ignis retrieved a book from among his clothes and leant back against his pillow, flicking it open to the page he had left it on earlier. Noctis soon joined him, his hair still more wet than damp but significantly better, and pulled out his phone. The glow of the screen in the dim light of the motel room threw his face into sharp contrast, casting it with an unhealthy pallor. Ignis tried to focus on the book, but his eyes kept darting to the side, distracted by Noctis’s profile. It was one he’d seen hundreds of times before, that he could probably conjure up from memory without effort, and yet it was still somehow compelling. The logic of infatuation was lost on him. Before long, he gave up on his book, sliding under the covers and flicking off his light. Noctis quickly followed suit, his phone left face-down on his bedside table and plugged into its charger. 

“Night, Specs,” Noctis said, the end swallowed by a yawn. 

“Goodnight, Noctis,” Ignis said. 

And then there was the quiet almost-silence and the dim almost-darkness of a motel room at night, and he was somehow even more acutely aware of how few inches separated them. It was excruciating, and there was nothing he could do except lie still, the desire to reach out consuming him, as he waited for sleep to take him. 

Some interminable time later - hours, surely, but the passage of time while one struggled to sleep was notoriously tricky - Ignis still lay awake, staring at the ceiling above him. His eyes had adjusted to the dim light, and he could make out the pattern of suspicious stains on the prefabricated tiling above him. Beside him, Noctis was sleeping peacefully, his breathing soft and even. Somewhere a clock was ticking, and small animals were going about their nocturnal business with quiet scurrying noises. It was all impossibly loud. Sleep was more of a hope than a goal at this point, his mind buzzing too much to allow consciousness to slip away. Sighing, he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with his elbow so that he could look at Noctis’s sleeping face. He was facing towards Ignis, his mouth slightly opening, a small puddle of drool pooling on his pillow, and his still-wet hair had begun to stick up in an interesting configuration around his head. He was still unfortunately beautiful, and Ignis could feel a fond warmth bubbling up in his stomach as he watched him take small, snuffling breaths, his nose twitching like a small animal. The love he felt for Noctis - that wasn’t so unusual, was it? He’d grown up with him, had been his closest - and at times his only - friend. It was only natural to love Noctis once you knew him - the sweet, shy boy who was burdened with too much too young. And, behind messy black hair, a face which was almost painfully pretty, all sharp angles and high cheekbones and blue eyes so dark they looked black until you got close to him, their true colour like the secret warmth he concealed under his surly exterior. It was only natural for you to fall for him, so subtly you never realised you were falling until you found yourself lying awake next to him, cursing his lips that looked so soft for ever planting the idea that what lay between them could ever be more than what it was. 

Noctis moved in his sleep, a soft noise coming from his parted lips as he twisted, his legs curling up, his knees nearly colliding with Ignis’s stomach. He held his breath, afraid the prince was waking up, then released it as he relaxed into the pillow, his hair falling over his face. He was even closer now, their bodies almost touching in the darkness. It felt suddenly hot, the space too cramped to disperse the heat of their bodies. His hand lifted - it seemed to move of its own accord - and slowly, so carefully, brushed the hair back from Noctis’s face. His skin was hot to touch, almost feverish, and a brief stab of worry hit Ignis before logic told him that he was bound to be warm under these circumstances. There was sweat beading at his hairline, and he made another soft noise, his eyes flickering behind closed lids as Ignis let his hand fall into the space between them. He could feel Noctis’s breath on the back of his knuckles, soft and warm. A soft sense of contentment crept over him as his watched Noctis’s face, wondering idly what he was dreaming about. He hoped it was something pleasant. 

He must have fallen asleep like that, watching Noctis dream, because the next thing he saw was bright sunlight, filtering through a gap in the curtains and falling directly onto his eyes. Blinking, he tried to sit up, and came up against a weight on his chest, pinning him in place. Furrowing his brow, he lifted a hand to cover his eyes as his mind slowly began whirring into motion again. On his chest, Noctis shifted, making an incoherent grumbling noise as he pressed his face into the angle between his neck and his collarbone. It was nice, almost unbearably so, to feel his weight pressing into him, to feel his soft skin against his own. He let his eyes drift shut again, his nose digging into Noctis’s hair, soft and fluffy and clean. He let himself edge back towards sleep, entertaining the fantasy that he could - that he _should_ \- be able to hold him like this. It was innocent, or he could almost convince himself it could be were it not for the way his pulse was racing at the sensation of Noctis’s lips against his skin. He let himself breathe in the scent of cheap shampoo and warm skin, enjoying the moment despite his better judgement, which was still mostly asleep. Noctis moved again, his elbow digging into Ignis’s ribs in a way that was exquisitely painful, causing him to flinch involuntarily, letting out a sharp hiss of pain. Noctis mumbled softly, clinging insistently to his side, his face still buried in his neck. Ignis held still, trying not to wake him, trying to cling to that perfect peaceful moment he had been stealing. Noctis moved again, his hand coming up to rub his eyes. 

“Specs?” he said, his voice groggy and his eyes slitted against the light as he lifted his head, “What time is it?”

Ignis reached for his phone and checked, starting a little when he saw how late it had gotten. 

“It’s nearly nine,” he said, with some regret, “We’ve overslept.” “Ugh,” Noctis said, letting his head drop heavily back onto Ignis, “Still too early.”

“We need to get up,” said Ignis, not moving, “We can’t very well stay in bed all day.”

“But it’s comfy,” Noctis complained, “And your pyjamas are really soft.” He lifted a hand to gently stroke the material covering Ignis’s chest. 

“The others will be waiting,” Ignis said, “It would be a dereliction of duty for me to allow you to sleep away the day.” He paused, and Noctis’s stomach rumbled loudly in the silence. “And besides,” he added, “We need to eat.”

“I’d much rather stay here,” Noctis said, nudging his neck with his nose - and was that his imagination, or was the way his fingers danced against his chest distinctly flirtatious? “Come on,” he pleaded, pushing himself up on his forearms to give him a wide-eyed look that absolutely and entirely worked, “Let me have a lie-in. Just this once.”

“You know I can’t say no to you,” Ignis said, and perhaps his choice of words wasn’t quite right but it was entirely honest, “I can only make suggestions. I am an advisor, after all.”

“Hmm,” Noctis said, giving him a look that could only be called calculating, “And would you lie to me?”

“Never,” Ignis said, hoping against hope that this wasn’t going where he thought it was. 

“Then tell me,” he said, lowering his gaze to where his fingers were fiddling with the top button of Ignis’s shirt, “Do you love me?”

Ignis hesitated, entertained the possibility of lying, and sighed. “Of course,” he said, his voice soft. 

“And - you know, I know all the reasons, we don’t have to go through them,” he said, his voice catching in his throat and his eyes still very pointedly not meeting Ignis’s, “But I just want to pretend, just for a moment.” He paused, his fingers still fiddling. “If I’d been brave enough, years ago, to ask you out, what do you think would have happened?”

“I think I would have said yes,” Ignis said, letting a hand slide into Noctis’s hair, “I think I would have become thoroughly enchanted.”

“I wish I had,” Noctis said, with a sigh, “I wasted so much time.”

“I wish - I wish I could have responded differently,” Ignis said, “The other day. When you told me. I’m sorry.”

“Want another shot?” Noctis asked, looking up with a small smile.

“Go on.” 

“Hey, Specs,” Noctis said, “I’m madly in love with you.”

It made his heart stutter, ridiculously, even though he was expecting it. “I think,” he coughed, cleared his throat, “I think… I am also, regrettably, in love with you.”

“That was still pretty terrible,” Noctis said, but the smile on his face said otherwise, “I don’t know why I love you.”

“By all accounts, it would be a mystery,” Ignis said, light and teasing. 

Noctis paused, looking down at his fingers and back up again. “I wish we could stay in this moment forever,” he said, “But - I mean, before it’s over - there’s just… one thing.” He paused again, then pushed up, pressing a clumsy kiss against his lips, the angle too awkward to fully connect. His hand was still in Noctis’s hair, and he tightened his grip, using it to hold him in place as he pressed into the kiss, his eyes drifting shut. Noctis moved, his knees coming down either side of Ignis’s waist, pushing him up so they could kiss properly, his hands pressed against his chest. Noctis kissed sweetly and desperately, clumsy enough to suggest this wasn’t something he did often. Ignis let himself get lost in the feeling, his lips parting readily to Noctis’s tongue, chasing the stale sleepy taste of him. Eventually, too soon, Noctis pulled back, looking down at Ignis with lazily hooded eyes. 

“I love you,” he said, pressing a small kiss against his upper lip. 

“A horrible decision, really,” Ignis quipped lightly.

“I know,” he said, his lips curving.

Ignis felt a twisting in his gut, the sharp sting of regret threatening to strike. 

“Can’t I make a few bad choices, though?” Noctis asked, giving him that look again. 

“It seems only fair,” Ignis said, making a show of relenting. 

“So… a lie-in, then?” That face - that was impossible to say no to.

“Just for today,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Just for today,” Noctis agreed, kissing him again. 

Just for today, Ignis could allow himself this one horrible decision. Consequences would come later - they always did. But, in the meantime, they deserved a rare moment of happiness. That, at least, they had earned. 

**Author's Note:**

> "I'm just going to write a short one-shot for this cute prompt" they said. "It's only going to have a little angst" they said. Let it never be said that I am not a huge disaster and a liar when it comes to writing. And watch this space for a possible part two, with extra angst and probably some smut?
> 
> Anyway, my annual revival has started early. It's time to write some more gay shit.


End file.
